


The Best Have Been Forgotten

by NancyBrown



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Amnesia, Can't Remember They're Lovers, Community: trope_bingo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-21
Updated: 2013-03-21
Packaged: 2017-12-06 00:23:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/729557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NancyBrown/pseuds/NancyBrown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack's having trouble getting sorted this morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Have Been Forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: series two, spoilers for "In the Shadows"  
> AN: fills Trope Bingo square: amnesia

Jack woke up alone. For a reason he couldn't name, this surprised him.

He lay there in the semi-darkness of his bunker, sorting through a confused jumble of images. Why wouldn't he be alone? After all, he was Captain Jack Harkness, breaker of a thousand hearts, owner of none. Sure, in the past, he'd taken the occasional long-term lover, and let himself get used to the feel of another heart beating beside his. He'd enjoyed the rare times he woke to the comfort of familiar kisses and lazy mornings spent with someone.

That pinged with another hollow familiarity. He couldn't recall why. His brain had been so muddled by his years in that other dimension. Hell or not, it'd clearly done a number on him. All the more reason to get back on the horse, Jack thought, and laughed a little on the inside as he stretched and got out of his bed. No, on the back of a horse had only been that one time, and he remember that particular escapade with perfect clarity.

Unease gnawed at him as he showered. He liked this private stall, connected to the Hub's other showers with the same creaky Victorian-era plumbing. The tile was antique, the fixtures as modern as he'd been able to rig up by himself when he'd first taken over the little hidey-hole under the floor as his own space. His towel, his comb, his straight razor, his three favourite brands of shampoo and five favourite soaps, and the steamed-up mirror hiding his gorgeous grin from its own surface, all these were arranged just as he liked them. So why did he think he might like them better if someone else were in the cramped space with him, jostling for room under the shower head? Well, other than the obvious.

The thought was ridiculous. He didn't dare bring someone down here just for a shag and a cuddle. He'd have to Retcon them over breakfast. He pictured himself, half-dressed on a sunless morning, bringing a plate of sausages and eggs with a glass of orange juice down to his bunker.

_"Enjoy, and don't mind the aftertaste."_

_"Prat."_

The word was crystal-clear in his memory. He'd have laughed, he _had_ laughed. Because he had been teasing about the Retcon.

Jack splashed water on his face. Weird dream.

He wasn't lonely. He didn't get lonely, not the way other people did. Jack's particular lonelinesses were assuaged by a quick visit to one of the local pubs: the ones near the university when he wanted to feel older and experienced, the ones by the docks when he wanted to feel young and desirable. Get a hotel room, go back to theirs for a few hours, just press body-to-body in a dark corner somewhere. Jack wasn't picky. But a lie-in sounded inviting, didn't it? Just a quiet morning with someone nice, and the prospect of more mornings to follow.

He shook it off by the time the cog wheel door opened for the first time. Busy with a stack of paperwork, he didn't see Ianto come in, only heard him and smelled the fresh scent of the coffee grinder. Owen followed less than ten minutes later, eager for his own initial infusion of caffeine. Jack suspected Gwen would be very late this morning, and already considered how best to tease her.

Comment on Rhys? Pretend she had a hickey and get the others to join in on the ruse? Hm. He'd have to think. Jack went through another boring form, setting it aside and catching his gaze on a cardboard box full of items and artefacts sitting by his desk. Right. He was meant to sort that today.

The cog opened again, and he heard Toshiko's laugh echo through the whole Hub as she came in. That was always worth a smile. Another jumped to his face as Ianto tapped on the door with one hand, coffee tray perfectly balanced on the other.

"Good morning, sir," he said breezily, not waiting for Jack's response. "I've got pastries if you can be lured out of your office. The chocolate ones."

"Ooo, the chocolate-filled or the chocolate-frosted?"

"Actually, they did them chocolate-filled and covered in chocolate frosting this morning."

Jack kept himself from drooling, only just. "Ianto Jones, you know my weaknesses."

"I do," he said, and with a wink, he turned and walked out to deliver the rest of the coffees.

Jack watched him go, smile lingering.

He liked Ianto. Watching him around the Hub put a grin on Jack's face and a warmth inside him he quite enjoyed. Jack remembered the flirting when they'd first met, and the hard times soon after. Odd, like watching a film reel from decades ago, he could picture kissing Ianto.

They'd had sex here in Jack's office.

The memory was static, disjointed, unconnected. As Jack blinked the intrusive image away, he wondered if he'd imagined the whole thing, just another sex dream about his team. No. He was sure the incident had been real, with stray flashes that it hadn't been a one-off. The blurred recollections suggested the affair had been some time ago. Before he went away with the Doctor, even. Yes. Whatever had happened, it hadn't continued, hadn't worked out. Shame. Clearly they'd stayed on good terms after. He remembered vividly the feeling of Ianto hugging him, the strength of his arms and the scent of his cologne.

_"We thought we'd lost you."_ The words hung in the air, unrelated to anything, but important for some reason.

He shook his head again. Spend a couple decades in Hell, he'd forget his own name next. This was as bad as a Retcon hangover. Breath catching, Jack instantly flipped his wrist strap open, but the date and time matched his expectations to the minute.

Time for a jolt to his blood sugar. Jack emerged from his office, searching for the promised box of pastries. 

The white box from his favourite bakery perched on the counter by the coffee maker. Jack reached in, digging for something sweet. He caught Ianto's amused smile. Was that a hint of wistfulness in his eyes? Poor kid, probably still hoping they'd rekindle whatever it had been.

Jack couldn't recall why they hadn't, actually. Once again, he couldn't put his finger on anything solid. Anyway, it didn't matter now. The past was the past. He really had to get his head together today.

He bit into the flaky pastry, enjoying the rich chocolate squeezing into his mouth. Jack closed his eyes in bliss.

"Hey, go have your special alone time in your office. The rest of us don't want to watch."

Jack's mouth was too full of chocolate goo and crumbs to give a proper answer. Instead, he continued chewing and made a show of sucking the chocolate off each finger, noting Ianto's suddenly-interested stare. Owen shuddered and headed off towards the autopsy bay. Toshiko covered her giggle with one hand. Adam rolled his eyes with a long-suffering sigh.

***  
The End  
***


End file.
